Pleasure or Pain
by Phoenix Donovan
Summary: Draco is caught being a bad boy, and now Lucius must punish him. DracoLucius, DracoSeverus.


**Pleasure or Pain**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of these characters.

* * *

Pansy was naked.

Draco looked at her with hungry eyes, crawling toward her on all fours stealthily, like a young cat, lurking toward his prey. His muscles rippled in his lean arms as he braced himself to touch her...

Pansy closed her eyes, shivering, waiting for the warmth of his body to rest against her. And finally it did, his arms pinning hers down forcefully, his toned legs spreading hers so that his erection could press against the core of her pleasure. Pansy let out a surprised yet pleasurable yelp as Draco pushed himself into her, throwing her down against the pillows and placing a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasps. Her tongue licked his hand, her teeth biting down onto his wrist, her eyes wild and violet.

Sweat dripped down Draco's porcelain skin as their eyes locked, his gray and intense with passion, boring into hers.

_Crack!_

The pair froze, looking at each other, terrified.

"What the hell was that—"

"Father is home early," Draco whispered. Pansy gasped and tried to sit up, but Draco wouldn't let her move.

"Draco, get off of me! He'll catch us!"

"No…he won't," Draco said. "Father hardly ever comes to my wing. He won't even know that you're here…"

And without another word, Draco began to thrust himself into a bewildered-looking Pansy, but soon it became too much for her and she gave in to Draco's movements.

Draco rubbed his lips against Pansy's shoulder, began to nibble it, and as he came he bit down harder than he had anticipated, causing Pansy to yelp out in surprise—loud enough for Lucius to hear them.

"Draco!" he heard his father yell, and before Draco could even be surprised, his door burst open and the tall Lucius Malfoy came in, his face tight with rage.

Pansy yelled and scrambled to hide herself beneath the covers, and Draco quickly began to do the same.

"Stay where you are!" Lucius yelled. "If you are so comfortable fucking, then you should be comfortable to appear naked before me!"

Draco sneered at Pansy and threw her her clothes, Lucius keeping his eyes off her. Pansy changed quickly, avoiding the strange glares radiating between Lucius and his son, and hurried past Lucius, running out of the house.

Draco sat in the room alone with Lucius now, his hands covering the most revealing parts of his naked body.

Lucius peered down at the censorship.

"Remove your hands, Draco."

Draco did so, hot with embarrassment that he was still hard. Lucius stepped forward and placed a cold hand on Draco's cock, causing him to wince at the shock of the change in temperature.

"Is this how she holds it, Draco?" Lucius asked. Draco hung his head, keeping his eyes off his father's hand. But Lucius's other hand touched Draco's chin and lifted it up to face the scene.

"Look at it Draco," Lucius said softly. "So that you can give me the proper answer." He began to stroke his hand up and down Draco's member. Draco closed his eyes briefly, not wanting Lucius to see that he was trying hard not to look.

"Now, as I was saying, Draco," Lucius hissed. "Does Miss Parkinson hold it like this?" He gripped it more firmly.

"No," Draco choked out.

"What was that boy?" Lucius growled.

Draco cleared his throat. "No."

"No what?"

"No, sir."

Lucius smiled, the corner of his lips curling awkwardly, showing his vampire-like teeth.

"How does she do it, then?"

"Father, please," Draco said, looking away. "Don't make me do this."

"Oh? Don't make you do this?" He tugged on Draco's erection, which was growing no less harder in his hand, to Draco's disgust. "But you let Pansy do it. You bring Pansy here to my home, and you fuck her. Now, that isn't very nice, is it Draco?"

"I'm ready, father!" Draco growled. "I'm old enough to have sex!"

Lucius barked with sharp laughter. "You are, are you?"

"Y…yes, sir."

Lucius laughed again, and he swept himself on top of Draco, staring his son in the eyes.

"Is this how you like it?" he whispered in Draco's ear, raising the hairs on the back of Draco's neck. "How does she do it, Draco?"

"Father—"

"Tell me!"

A tear ran down Draco's cheek and he forced his eyes shut.

"She…she does it slower than that," Draco whispered. Lucius slowed his stroking pace.

"And…?"

"And…and she licks…she licks the top."

"Does she now?"

Draco could feel his father's long hair brushing his stomach and a warm, familiar tongue grazed the head of Draco's penis.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut, gripping the sheets tightly in his fists. After a few moments, Draco felt the tongue lift away.

"Have you had enough, Draco?" Lucius asked.

"Y…yes father," Draco said quickly, breathing a sigh of relief that it was over. Lucius lifted himself off Draco.

"Come, Draco," he said quietly. Draco stood up and reached for his underwear.

"Don't dress," Lucius said, and Draco sneered at his father.

A hand smacked Draco hard on the face and he bent over in surprise, clutching his throbbing cheek.

"Do not look at me in that manner, boy," he said. "Now stand up straight, and come with me."

* * *

Lucius lead Draco down their many spiral steps, past the kitchen, through the living room, and to a little door that stood in a dark corner of the house. Draco stared at his father.

"Father, please—"

"Now, now, Draco," Lucius said, bending down and placing a cold hand on his son's cheek. "You have been very bad." He pushed the door open with his black cane. "And bad boys must be punished."

Lucius made Draco go first, and Draco had the sick feeling that his father was staring at his tight ass as he closed the door behind him and followed Draco down the dimly-lit spiral staircase that lead them slowly down into the dungeon. They finally came to a small, dark, damp room and Draco stood in the middle of it, shivering both with chill and fear. He could distinctly make out many things by candlelight—the handcuffs on the wall, the long metal table, the chains hanging from the ceiling. Draco felt like he was going to be sick.

"Over there," Lucius said, tapping Draco with the end of his cane toward the wall with the handcuffs. Draco approached it hesitantly, wincing as Lucius bared down on him, gripping him around the waist as he placed one wrist in a handcuff, and then the other.

Draco was facing the dirty wall, his knees digging into the ground, his body bent over awkwardly.

"You seem to be quite fond of pleasure, Draco," Lucius said, his footsteps approaching Draco slowly. Draco felt a long finger trace his spine, stopping at his tailbone.

"But let us see if you like pain."

A white-hot flash fell before Draco's eyes, and he felt about to pass out, as Lucius's cane cracked against his back. Draco staggered, his wrists pulling frantically at the cuffs to get away. His father laughed grimly.

"You don't like it, then?" Lucius asked, and tears streamed down Draco's cheeks as the cane hit him again, this time drawing blood—Draco could feel his skin break open and the warm liquid run down his back like a dark crimson stream.

The third time, Draco was knocked out, unable to bear the pain. He saw bright stars appear before him first, and then everything went black. When he woke, he was out of the chains, lying on the ground in the middle of the dungeon. He tried to sit up, but the pain of his back causing him to groan in pain and he was forced to lay back into his original position.

"That will teach you," he heard his father say. "Not to meddle with pleasure unless you can endure pain." He knelt down beside Draco, stroking his son's blonde hair. "The two go hand-in-hand, surely you are aware of that."q

He gripped Draco's hair and pulled him to his feet, Draco not daring to make a sound. His father, annoyed, pushed him into the metal table.

"Up there, boy," he growled. Draco climbed as quickly as possible onto the metal table, and once again, Lucius was upon him, tying him back-down. Draco winced at the uncomfortable feeling of cold metal against his fresh wounds.

Draco's wrists were tied above his head, his ankles tied at the bottom, his legs spread, knees bent. He gazed over at his father, who swayed as he walked, as Draco was still very dizzy.

Lucius leaned over Draco, placing a hand on his smooth chest, trailing his fingers down to his stomach.

"You have a choice, Draco," Lucius said. "Pleasure. Or pain."

Draco whimpered. He wanted neither from his father.

"Answer me, boy!" Lucius roared; when Draco didn't answer, he struck his cane against Draco's thigh—it stung as it hit, breaking the skin and drawing blood, which trickled lightly down his leg, a steady dripping on the floor that echoed off the stone walls.

Tears streamed down Draco's face, and his father scowled at him.

"Fine. If you won't choose for yourself," Lucius said, unbuttoning his vest, "I will."

Draco watched in horror as Lucius began to strip down. When he was naked, he mounted Draco, his pale, ghostly face looming over his son's.

"Please, father…" Draco whispered. Lucius's lips sneered into an eerie smile.

Draco closed his eyes and braced himself for Lucius's large erection to push itself into him. Lucius grabbed his face.

"Look at me while I fuck you," Lucius said. "Then you can know how horrible it is to have to watch."

Draco stared into his father's eyes, trying to bring his mind elsewhere. He concentrated on the lines of Lucius's face, on the pressure of the fingernails pressing into his arms.

Finally, it was over, and Lucius gave one final painful thrust before pulling out of Draco. Lucius leaned down to study the space between Draco's legs.

"You're bleeding," he said silkily, a sly grin playing on his lips. Draco breathed a sigh of relief as his wrists and ankles were released, but he couldn't stand up for the pain he felt. He was sure he had been torn this time.

"What have we learned, Draco?" Lucius asked softly, pulling on his clothes.

"Not to have sex," Draco breathed.

"Not to _fuck_, Draco," Lucius corrected. "Say it. Say the word."

"Not to fuck, sir," Draco muttered, looking up into his father's eyes. They were cold and gray and Lucius was no longer smiling.

"Good boy," he said, placing a hand on Draco's shoulder. "You're a very good boy."

* * *

Winter vacation was over and classes were back in session—Draco, as always, didn't tell Pansy what happened. It wasn't hard hiding it from her, though. She was so embarrassed by the event that she had hardly talked to him since they had been back.

It was after Potions on his second day back that it happened.

"Mr. Malfoy, may I have a word?"

Professor Snape stood at the front of the classroom, arms draped behind him elegantly. Draco nodded, made sure that everyone was out, and closed the dungeon door. Snape stepped forward slowly.

"I'll be blunt, Mr. Malfoy. What's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Draco said, perhaps a bit too quickly. Snape raised his eyebrows and sat down at a desk, folding his arms in front of him.

"I didn't want to dig too deeply into your brain without permission, but I couldn't help but hear all of the…negative energy."

Draco nodded. "Yes," he said finally.

"Do you care to discuss it?"

"No."

Snape kept his eyes on Draco for an unusual amount of time, and Draco felt a bit dizzy, a bit confused. That's when he realized what Snape was doing.

"Don't," he snapped, breaking his mind away and grabbing hold of the nearest chair he could. Breathing hard, he gripped the back of the seat and glared up at Snape, who wore a sad frown.

"Oh dear, Draco…" he said, standing up and sweeping over to Draco.

"Don't let him know that you know," Draco whispered as Snape drew closer to him. "Don't let him know that you know…he'll kill me…"

Snape brought his arms around Draco so that the tall blonde could lean into him, tears falling gracefully.

"It will be all right, Draco," Snape said softly. Draco gripped Snape's waist.

"Okay then…" Snape said, gently pushing Draco away, but Draco gripped tighter and looked up into Snape's eyes. He could tell that Snape was beginning to feel uncomfortable but he couldn't help his instincts—and he knew that he didn't even want to try.

"That's enough, Mr. Malfoy,' Snape said. Draco broke away, keeping his icy eyes locked on his Professor's.

"I'm sorry Professor," Draco said. "I didn't mean to…make you feel awkward."

"You're fine, Draco," Snape said apologetically.

"I don't get enough…" Draco let his fingers graze Snape's. "…positive attention."

Draco leaned up and placed his lips on Snape's, his teacher pushing him away.

"Draco, you need to stop," he said, strutting toward the dungeon door.

"Why?"

Snape turned to him. "Because I am your teacher, and you have been through a great deal." He opened the door. "I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy. But it is best for you if you leave."

"I can't leave," Draco said angrily. "You're the only person I can trust."

Snape sighed. "Be that as it may, this scenario is becoming entirely inappropriate."

Draco gazed down at Snape's hand, which was clutching his wand, and before Snape could say anything else, Draco raised his own wand and pointed it at Snape.

"_Expelliarmus!"_ he bellowed, and Snape was thrown backwards, his wand flying out of his hand. Draco ran to shut the door and in one swift movement he was on top of Snape.

"Mr. Malfoy, what—!"

But Draco was stronger than Snape in his young years, and he had his arms pinned to the ground, Snape staring up at him with wild eyes.

"Make love to me!" Draco yelled.

"Draco—!"

"Please!" Draco pleaded. Snape lay motionless on the floor, speechless.

"Fine!" Draco growled, ripping the fabric of Snape's pants. "If you won't do it, I'll make you!"

"Get off of me!" Snape growled, but Draco had already torn a spot near Snape's crotch and forced his own smooth erection through his zipper so that it rubbed against Snape's leg.

"Don't tell me no," Draco hissed, leaning down to nuzzle Snape's cheek. "Don't tell me that you don't like it."

Snape bit Draco hard on the neck, but Draco just laughed.

"I like it that way!" he yelled, and before Snape could throw him off, he thrust his penis into Snape.

His teacher howled in anger, his face twisted in piercing agony. Draco thrust hungrily into Snape.

"So this is what my father likes," he gasped. "Can't say I blame him."

"Get _off_!" Snape roared, and this time he was able to roll Draco over so that he lay on top of him. Draco grinned.

"I don't mind being the bitch," he said. "If it's with you."

"Oh, please," Snape said, and he stood up, his hands cupping his naked cock. Draco stood up as well.

"Are you in pain?" he asked. Snape narrowed his eyes.

"Something is terribly wrong with you."

Draco frowned. "The only thing wrong with me is my father."

"I will do something about your father."

Draco dropped to his knees. "I want you Snape. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you—"

"Stand up, Draco."

Draco looked longingly up at Snape, at the erection that was too big to be covered by his palms.

"You want it," Draco whispered.

"Ignore that."

"No," Draco said, edging closer. Snape looked at him reproachfully, but he didn't move away. Tentatively, Draco reached his hands up to touch Snape's, and the Professor let him lower his palms away from his cock.

"You're bigger than my father," Draco said. Snape rolled his eyes.

"I would love to taste you," Draco continued. "I bet you taste better than him."

And without Snape's consent, he brought his lips to smother Snape's shaft. He knew that Snape enjoyed it, his breathing becoming more rapid and deep, his fingers playing with Draco's blonde hair. Snape's knees buckled and the hot, sour liquid pumped into Draco's mouth. He took it in one gulp, brought his face away, and stood up.

"You tell no one about this, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, breathless. Draco smiled.

"No worries, Professor. I'm good at keeping secrets."


End file.
